Chapter 143
Kane's POV
Grim's voice echoed through the depths of the mine pit, hoarse with despair: "This is an impossible task."
He pointed toward the darkness at the end of the tunnel, shaking his head with a bitter smile.
"All the Thunderstones around here have been mined out. There's no ore left to dig. If we go any deeper, we'll hit that wall—the one that can't be broken through."
I frowned. A wall? At this depth in a mine pit, there was actually an impenetrable obstacle?
"What wall?"
Grim looked up at me, a flicker of complex emotion crossing his eyes.
"The Wall of Sighs." He paused, as if organizing his thoughts. "This mine pit wasn't originally meant for mining. This place used to be an underground shelter for the Thunder Wolf Pack, a refuge they built during wartime. At the deepest part of the mine stands a black wall that cannot be dug through. We call it the 'Wall of Sighs.'"
"A Thunder Wolf shelter?" I considered this information. "Did they build that wall?"
"No." Grim shook his head. "That wall is connected to the Stone Ridge Pack."
"The Stone Ridge Pack?" The name wasn't unfamiliar to me.
They were an ancient race that commanded the earth element, dwelling in the Granite Ranges at the continent's westernmost edge—a highland mountain range stretching for hundreds of miles. During my time in Blood River, I'd heard people mention that the mountains contained complex natural cave systems and underground river networks. Over centuries, the Stone Ridge Pack had carved out a vast underground city within the mountain's belly, connecting to various wolf packs through subterranean passages.
But that was at the continent's western edge, at least thousands of miles from here.
Grim seemed to sense my confusion and continued explaining: "Deep beneath the Thunder Wolf territory, the rock layers connect geologically with the Stone Ridge mountain system. The Wall of Sighs stands right at the boundary between the two territories. For nearly a century, since the Stone Ridge Pack went into isolation, they've used earth element magic to create Walls of Sighs at the underground borders with every wolf pack."
I fell silent for a moment, digesting this information.
An underground system spanning the continent, boundary walls forged with elemental power...
This sounded more like some kind of self-imposed seal rather than a simple territorial marker.
"Take me to see it," I said.
Grim froze, apparently not expecting me to be interested in the wall. He glanced hesitantly at Frank and Dorothy, then finally nodded.
"Follow me, but don't get your hopes up. That thing really can't be broken through."
We proceeded deeper along the narrow tunnel, our footsteps on the gravel creating harsh scraping sounds. Dorothy followed close behind me, her breathing particularly audible in the confined space. The tunnel walls still bore traces left by Thunderstone extraction—irregular pits flickering with faint blue luminescence.
The tunnel opened up dramatically at its end.
We entered a massive cavity. At the far end stood a black, smooth, gigantic stone wall rising twenty meters high. The wall's surface had no seams whatsoever, its surface gleaming with a dull metallic luster that conveyed an absolute sense of oppression.
Before the wall lay piles of damaged pickaxes, broken drill bits, and even some charred marks left by explosions.
"This wall isn't ordinary stone." Grim walked to the wall's edge, his voice carrying numb despair. "It's solidified from the 'Heart of Earth.' Unless the Stone Ridge Pack's priests consent, no one can break through."
He turned to look at me, exhaustion filling his eyes. "We've tried explosives, tried digging, tried everything. Overseer Draven forced us to dig for three months. Over a hundred of our companions died, and we couldn't even scrape off a piece of the wall's surface."
I approached the wall and reached out to touch it. The surface was cold, hard, and seemed to carry some faint pulsation, like a living creature's heartbeat.
I held my breath, carefully sensing that rhythm—regular, steady, as if the earth itself were breathing.
I clenched my fist and struck the wall hard.
No reaction.
Instead, my knuckles throbbed with pain, as if I'd struck something harder than steel.
"Kane, your hand—" Dorothy suddenly grabbed my wrist, concern in her voice.
I looked down to discover that the wound inadvertently left during our earlier struggle was still bleeding, crimson traces running down the back of my hand. Dorothy pulled out a clean strip of cloth from inside her coat and carefully bandaged me. Her movements were gentle, her fingertips trembling slightly—she clearly hadn't fully recovered from the earlier fright.
"Thank you," I said.
Dorothy's face flushed slightly. She lowered her head, concentrating on tying the knot, not daring to meet my eyes.
Grim watched this scene, complex emotions flickering in his eyes. Then he said desperately, "The ore around here has all been mined out! Ahead lies the Wall of Sighs—unbreakable. Draven's threats of punishment still hang over us. We're all going to die." His voice grew shrill. "And you—you killed the guards. You've moved up our death sentence!"
Hearing this, the other goblins in the pit stopped their work and stared at us with terrified eyes. The air filled with an atmosphere of despair, as if death's shadow already loomed over everyone's heads.
I fell silent for a moment, gazing at the enormous black wall before me.
Then I turned to look at Grim. "Do you want to live?"
Grim froze. A flash of hope crossed his eyes, but was quickly replaced by despair.
"Live? How? We're goblins, we're slaves, we're—"
"I can help you." I cut him off.
The mine pit suddenly fell silent. All the goblins stared at me with disbelieving eyes.
In their world, wolves had always been oppressors and enslavers. No one had ever said to them, "I can help you."
Grim stared into my eyes, as if trying to determine whether I was lying.
After a long moment, hope rekindled in his eyes—faint, but real.
He took a deep breath and nodded firmly.